Dear Reader - this is a slow burn story of betrayal and revenge. Of broken promises and broken people. I hope its as fun to read as it creating.
6 months earlier
Emily's hand snaked across the armrest and slowly reached her lover's crotch.
Jonathan chuckled, "What are you doing?"
Emily purred, "I need you one more time before we get home... and we've never done any roadhead before." Emily replied
Jonathan continued to drive as he reached down and eased his seat further away from the steering wheel as Emily slid her shoulder out of the lap belt. She unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper on his pants like an expert, and she was.. Jonathan was already rock hard despite their week of non stop sex. Emily reached into his pants to spring his cock free from its restriction. Emily responded by grabbing a hold of his 5 inch cock with her right hand and jerking it slowly. When Emily and Jonathan first met, she thought she hated sucking dick, but that wasn't the case. She hated sucking her husband's dick. Easily 3 inches longer and much thicker than Jonathan's. Sucking David hurt her jaw.. Since meeting Jonathan, she had become good at it.
Emily slowly bent over and started to lick the tip of Jonathan's dick which by this time was already a little wet from the precum. That was another thing that Emily thought she hated. Cum. With Dave it felt like she was going to drown, but with Jonathan it was gentle and only a tablespoon or so.
Emily slowly started to take Jonathan's dick into her mouth and started to suck the head and shaft. She loved the fact that she could still taste their mingled cum from their early morning fuck before checking out of their rooms.
Emily was sucking up and down his shaft now and using her right hand to jerk the base of his dick. Jonathan could see that her lipstick was smearing on the shaft of his dick and it turned him on even more, he knew he wasn't going to last very long at this rate. "Fuck babe that feels great! I love when you give me head! Tell me again how much bigger I am than your husband."
Emily rolled her eyes, behind her closed eyelids. Jonathan was nowhere near as large as David, but that's what made their sex so good. She knew though what Dr. Hart and his massive ego needed. She pulled away with a 'plop' leaving a line of drool from his dick to her lips. "So much bigger baby," she purred as she took his entire dick into her throat in one thrust.
Jonathan was raising his hips up to meet her lips and the sounds of her spit mixed with her gagging noises filled the interior of the BMW. Emily knew that Jonathan was getting close and could feel his cock getting harder in her mouth.
"Fuck, baby I'm getting close! I'm gonna cum in your mouth!" That was all the warning Emily got as she locked her lips around his shaft and used her tongue to milk every drop from her lover's balls. When he had finished he purred, "Damn, you are one sexy little whore."
Emily smiled as she sat up in her seat, using a kleenex to clean the residue of cum and spit from her chin. Emily pulled the visor down to check herself in the mirror before she slid the shoulder belt around her. When she shifted in her seat, smoothing the hem of her skirt, then reached up to tighten her seatbelt. The movement pulled the fabric of her blouse just enough for Jonathan to catch a teasing glimpse of lace beneath.
He swallowed, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. God, she was beautiful. Even after all this time. His eyes flicked to the road, then back to her. Her long, dark lashes framed eyes that had always held him captive, even in those moments when guilt whispered against the edges of his conscience. But today? There was no guilt. Only satisfied desire, the heat of it still coursing through his veins from the last week spent tangled in the sheets of a hotel bed.
She felt his stare and turned to him with a knowing smile, her lips still swollen from his kisses. "You should keep your eyes on the road, Doctor Hart," she teased, her voice husky.
Jonathan chuckled, his grip on the wheel relaxing as he let himself bask in the moment. "I can't help it."
Emily rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in them. She reached for the console, fiddling with the radio dial. "At least let me find something other than--"
She never finished the sentence.
Jonathan looked up just in time to see the guardrail looming ahead, metal and concrete rushing toward them like a predator in the night. Time stretched, slowed. His instincts screamed. Brake. Turn. Move. His foot slammed against the pedal, hands jerking the wheel, but at this speed--physics didn't give a damn about his reflexes.
The tires skidded. The world twisted. Emily's gasp turned into a scream.
The guardrail didn't stop them. It split. The car lurched, metal shrieking, tires leaving the asphalt.
They were airborne.
Jonathan barely had time to register the terror in Emily's wide, panicked eyes before the world flipped upside down--
And then there was nothing but the deafening sound of impact.
Then siren's, police - fire - paramedics. Then the helicopter airlifted them both to the hospital where they both worked. On a normal night Dr. Emily Williams would have been paged to the OR, as a leading cardiothoracic surgeon. She would have been a chief consult, if not the surgeon in an accident with significant trauma to the chest. Only today she was the patient, or she would have been had she lived long enough to make it into the OR.
TODAY:
The kitchen smelled of fresh coffee and cinnamon, a deceptive warmth in the midst of the cold reality hanging between them. The soft hum of the refrigerator filled the silence as David sat at the small wooden table, his fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic mug. His broad shoulders were hunched, his tailored gray sweater stretched across muscles that once carried confidence but now sagged with exhaustion. Dark circles shadowed his piercing blue eyes, the weight of sleepless nights pressing down on him.
Rachel watched him from across the table, her own mug untouched. She had always been the free spirit, the one who drifted with the wind, but this--this anchored her in place. Her brother-in-law, a man who had once carried her sister with effortless devotion, now sat before her unraveling. Her auburn hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, and she wore an oversized sweater, her bare feet curled against the hardwood floor as if grounding herself for whatever storm David was about to unleash.
She had been worried about him for weeks, ever since Emily's death. He hadn't just lost a wife--he had lost his foundation, his certainty, and possibly even himself.
David exhaled sharply and reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket resting beside his chair. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled out a thick stack of papers, the pages clipped together neatly, edges crisp. He placed them on the table between them.
Rachel frowned. "What is this?"
David didn't answer immediately. He lifted his coffee to his lips, took a long sip, then set it down with more force than necessary. "The coroner's report."
Rachel's breath caught.
The edges of the report were blacked out in thick strokes of ink, whole sections removed. But her eyes skimmed what was left, and then they stopped.
Stopped at the words she didn't want to see.
"Postmortem examination reveals the presence of male ejaculate in multiple anatomical sites. Trace amounts of seminal fluid were identified in the vaginal canal, oropharyngeal cavity, and rectal vault. Microscopic analysis confirms spermatozoa in all three locations. The presence and distribution of said fluid indicate recent sexual activity prior to the time of death."
Rachel's hand trembled, the paper crinkling under her grip. She tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry. "David..."
She couldn't find words, only a whisper of I'm sorry. Over and over.
David's laugh was hollow, a bitter sound that cut through the air like a knife. "She was at that conference for a week," he said, voice tight. "I wasn't there. Jonathan was."
Rachel's stomach twisted violently. She had suspected something--Emily had always been distant, always guarded about certain aspects of her life--but this? This was something else entirely.
David's jaw clenched, his breath unsteady. His blue eyes, rimmed with exhaustion and something dangerously close to grief, lifted to meet hers. "One of those places they found semen... was forbidden to me." His voice dropped lower, rough, pained. "And one--I had to beg for and then only on my birthday, if her pager didn't call her back to the hospital."
Rachel recoiled as if struck. The implications hit her all at once, burning through her like fire. Emily hadn't just strayed. She had given herself to another man in ways she had denied her husband. Her fingers curled into fists on the table. Anger. Disgust. Grief. It all tangled inside her, a storm she couldn't control.
David sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Say it, Rachel. Say what you're thinking."
Rachel shook her head, unable to form the words. The truth sat between them, thick as smoke.
